A Glee Prom
by ray4ruffles
Summary: Finn finally realizes Quinn isn't who he thought she was, and Rachel is.  Will she still be there?  Told in Puck and Finn POV.  Puckleberry one-shot fleshed out into multi-chapter.
1. Blessings and Bullshit

**A/N:** so this was a really rough concept that's been floating in my head for awhile. it didn't get the same editing as some of my others b/c technically i'm supposed to be studying for an exam.

**SPOILER ALERT!** the following contains some spoilers for the prom episode of Glee, but most of it is my own twist (so, spoilers include L's running for Queen, K's return, and the implosion of the Inns). i don't own glee, so if the episode doesn't have my plot line, don't blame me.

reviews always welcome

* * *

><p>Puck lingered in the locker room, waiting for the others to leave, save one—his best friend. As unbadass as it was, he found himself shifting uncomfortably from one foot to the other, nervous as he approached Finn.<p>

"So man," he finally voiced as the taller boy slammed his locker shut. Puck leaned back against the rows of metal, running his hand across his 'hawk and trying to appear nonchalant. "You taking Quinn to Prom?"

Finn smiled his dopey smile. "Yeah. She's really excited about it too; it just feels right, you know? Like none of that other stuff ever happened, and it was meant to turn out like this."

Puck bobbed his head in agreement, letting his shoulders relax a little at the other boy's statement. "Yeah, cool." He paused, taking a deep breath. "So…you wouldn't care who takes Berry then, right?"

Puck felt the tension saturate the room as his friend suddenly stiffened, refusing to look at him as he miserably failed at attempting indifference. "No, of course not. Why?"

The muscular jock decided to just go for broke. "'Cause I was going to ask her."

Finn gave up all pretenses at disinterest and turned to stare at his friend. "Rachel? What happened to Lauren? You know, your girlfriend?"

Puck rolled his eyes. "We broke up the day after she started running for fuckin' Prom Queen—girl's bitch kicked into high gear." He didn't feel like reminding Finn that it was Lauren that had dumped him, and Rachel that had offered words of support (whereas Finn had apparently forgotten all about it before a week had passed).

Finn frowned, face contorted in what looked like pain as he thought. "Dude, Rachel's not some rebound chick you can just—" he tried again, but this time the mowhawked boy didn't even let him finish.

"You think I don't know that? I'm not just looking to get some. I actually think Berry's kind of cool, man, and if I have to go anyways—" technically, he didn't _have_ to go, but he wasn't going to let people think he wasn't going because of _Lauren_ "—I might as well go with someone hot that my ma likes and I can talk to." And he could—Berry was still crazy and talked way too much, but for some reason she had gotten sort of interesting and, obvious plus, didn't make him feel like a Lima loser.

Frankenteen let his hand drag across his face, groaning in obvious frustration. "Look Puck, I'll be honest with you—I'm not comfortable with you taking Rachel. She's still my friend, and anyways, you said you'd lay off. You _promised_, man."

Puck's eyebrows quirked up in disbelief. "Are you serious man?" His voice started rising in annoyance, but he didn't really notice. "I made that promise when you two were on the rocks and probably going to get back together. Now you're with Quinn and you _still_ want me to stay away? That's not being a friend, Hudson, that's trying to have a finger in both pies, or something. You can't expect her to spend her life drooling over you while you have your golden time with Q."

"That's not what I'm saying," Finn shouted back at him. "I'm just trying to keep her safe—away from _you_."

The olive-toned boy's eyes widened. He felt like he'd been punched.

Finn's face fell guiltily. "That's not what I meant, Puck. I just meant you can sometimes be—" he reached a lanky arm toward the other's shoulder.

"Fuck you," he retorted, pulling his arm harshly out of reach. He looked up, hurt and anger mixed in his expression. "I came here to give you a head's up, let you have your say. Now I did, and I'm fuckin' done." He picked up his bag and turned toward the door. "See you at Prom."

Finn watched him leave, a bad feeling starting to knot in his stomach.

* * *

><p>Finn walked through the hallways, alone for the first time in who knows how long. Quinn insisted on them being seen together as much as possible, to burn into everyone's brain the perfect image of Prom Royalty. He actually understood what Puck had been talking about with the whole competition bringing out the scary side of girls: Quinn had literally started coming over the night before to put together his outfits for school. It kind of made him feel like he was reliving picture day in grade school all week long, except Quinn wanted him to look cool, whereas his mom wanted him to look cute.<p>

But that wasn't the point. The point was now standing in front of him, on her tiptoes as she reached to stack the last of her books in her locker.

He took a moment to appreciate her looks: she was wearing a navy skirt with ruffles and a yellow cardigan, her bangs pushed out of her eyes with a headband and her hair hanging straight down her back. He loved the way the artificial light bounced off of it; he had to check himself so he didn't run a hand through it like he used to.

She grinned up at him, and he realized that she'd already said hello and asked him why he was here. He didn't know how, but somehow he always managed to lose focus when she was talking. He always figured it was because she used so many words to begin with, and a lot of them were about things he didn't understand anyways; it probably made it hard for his brain to pick up on words he _did_ understand.

"Yeah, hey Rache," he replied, grinning at her. He loved to smile at her, because he loved that it would cause her to smile just a little more. It made him feel special, like he'd been a star quarterback all of his life, instead of just this last season. Then he remembered he needed to focus.

"I need to talk to you about Prom," he told her in a serious tone.

"If this is regarding who I'm voting for as Prom Royalty Finn, I can assure you—"

He shook his head. "No; it's not about that. Has anyone asked you yet?"

Rachel's eyes widened in surprise, turning into those big chocolate orbs that he loved to stare into. "I thought you and Quinn—" she began.

Finn realized how it must have sounded, and shut his eyes tight in frustration. This was not going like he'd wanted. "No, I mean—we are. I was just wondering what _you_ were doing."

Rachel's eyes dropped a little, but she kept her chin high. He loved that she managed to stay strong through everything. That she was unbreakable. "Well, not that it's any of your business, but I have numerous prospects lined up, and am simply taking my time to consider the best escort to such an important high school rite of passage—"

And now he was lost again. "Are you going with Puck?" he demanded, trying to simplify her answer into something he could understand.

Rachel blushed slightly, but held her ground. "I don't think it's any of your business whether or not I attend with Noah, Finn, as you are now intimately involved with Quinn."

"Don't go with him, Rachel," Finn found himself pleading. "He's just doing it to sleep with you, and after everything that he's done—"

"I resent that insinuation, Finn Hudson," Rachel interrupted. "Noah has grown quite a bit since last year, and especially in the last semester. He may still have quite a ways to go, but he's my friend, and I'd feel substandard as his if I didn't fully support his progression away from his man-whore ways. And furthermore, I'm proud to be attending on his arm." And with that she shut her locker and walked away.

Now Finn was really confused. She'd seemed like she still liked him, but then she was yelling at him for (rightfully) warning her against Puck. That knot in his stomach was getting bigger.


	2. Oh What a Night

Prom night was here, and Puck was actually pretty excited. First off, thanks to Berry and Artie, his GPA was high enough that he was eligible to go. Also, the dance was in a hotel, and even though Berry refused to get a room, there was still free food and an open (non-alcoholic) bar, which was fuckin' awesome. Most important, Berry looked like the shit. Her strapless blue dress reached the floor and she had on these amazing three inch fuck-me heels, and though she'd been talking quite a bit, she'd also been giggling and smiling and looking almost nowhere else but him all night.

They'd danced and talked to other Gleeks and had a really good time. He didn't care that Lauren was on some other guy's arm—they could have her. What with Kurt's transfer back to McKinley, he didn't even care that she'd dropped Glee to bolster her campaign. He liked Glee, and he liked the crazy midget that smiled and stood next to him holding his hand or his arm the whole night.

It was about fifteen minutes before midnight and the announcement of Prom Royalty when they decided to walk outside and get some air. They made their way around the pond, lit up with little colored lights underneath the water as various points bubbled excitedly.

They didn't realize what they'd walked into until they were on the opposite side of the hedges.

"Where's your head been all night? This is vital Finn—the last votes are still coming in!"

"I just don't care, okay Quinn? What's the big deal about this Prom King and Queen thing anyways?"

The two of them ducked, leaning against the hedges. Puck knew the polite thing to do would be to walk away (as Rachel's tugging on his arm would suggest), but if there was an implosion of the Inns, he wanted to know it firsthand.

Quinn, meanwhile, was scoffing at Finn's statement. "The big deal? The big deal? This is huge, Finn! This could make us for the rest of our high school careers!"

There was no sound for a moment, in which Puck could only assume the awkward giant had shrugged, because Quinn then followed up by snapping, "Or maybe you'd rather be off rescuing some man-handed nobody?"

Rachel's eyes widened at the insult, and Puck rolled his eyes, gripping her hand (seriously, tiny things) tightly as he tried to smile reassuringly in the dark.

"Rachel is my friend, Quinn; and why do you have to be so mean to her anyways?"

The blonde's sarcastic laugh resonated in the garden. "Friend? Don't kid yourself, Finn. How would you feel if I treated other guys as 'friendly' as you treat her? Or if they acted like that kind of 'friend' to _me_? You can't keep fawning over her like this, Finn: it looks bad for both of us." She sighed, allowing the silence to envelope them for a minute. "Now come on; we have to go back inside for the announcement." Puck listened to her heels begin their loud click-clack against the cement.

"No."

The heels stopped short, and Puck could sense the burning glare Quinn was giving her dopey boy-toy. "Finn, I'm not joking—come on."

"No," Finn repeated. "I don't care about being Prom King, and I'm starting to wonder if maybe the only reason we're even back together is because you want to be Prom Queen and the most popular girl at McKinley again."

_Wow,_ the eavesdropper couldn't help but think. _It looked like Frankenteen finally caught up_.

"Finn—" Quinn pled, and the two behind the bushes could hear the sound of an arm wrenching back.

"You know, I loved you Quinn," stated the gawky boy angrily. "I forgave you after everything, and I was stupid enough to think that a stupid kiss meant you loved me too."

"Finn, I do. I do love—"

"No; you love being popular. But there's a girl out there that's different—she loves me for me. And I've got to find her before it's too late."

With that Finn's huge footsteps stormed off, leaving Quinn's heels stunned before scurrying away to find a place to cry. Puck could feel in the brunette's posture that she was stunned, and, when he was sure it was just them, he helped the petite girl to her feet and walked her back to the dance. He never let go of her hand, realizing this might be his last chance to hold it (though he couldn't explain why that was so important).

Berry didn't say a word when they got back, and Puck found himself wishing that he'd had some respect for people's private conversations. Not that he cared if Finnchel reunited (it was only a matter of time anyways), but he hated that Finn somehow managed to get everything when he never deserved any of it.

The two of them stood by the bar, sipping their drinks, when the band paused. Puck noticed Berry staring at the stage, and he followed her gaze, only to realize Finnessa had taken the microphone.

"Uh, hey everybody," he said awkwardly. "I know you all are waiting for the announcement of Prom King and Queen, but I just wanted to sing one song before all of that happens."  
>He looked across the crowd and met Rachel's eyes. "Rachel Berry, I mean this with all of my heart."<p>

The band started playing, and if Puck wasn't so pissed at the circumstances, he'd be kind of impressed at the ballsy move of singing a chick song—a Taylor Swift song, on top of that.

_I'm so glad you made time to see me  
>How's life? Tell me, how's your family?<br>I haven't seen them in a while_

_You've been good, busier than ever_  
><em>We small talk, work and the weather<em>  
><em>Your guard is up, and I know why<em>

_Because the last time you saw me_  
><em>Is still burned in the back of your mind<em>  
><em>You gave me roses, and I left them there to die<em>

Puck couldn't believe this was happening. That Hudson was really up there singing to his date. About December. Did he even remember what had happened that Christmas? Puck did—getting that sobbing phone call and driving out to a fuckin' Christmas tree lot to pick up the mess that the awkward teen had left in the cold. If Hudson had any fucking clue what Puck had gone through calming the crazy midget down, what she herself had probably gone through when she was alone, he wouldn't have chosen any song mentioning fucking _December_. Prick had probably just chosen it because the month was right. Fucking asshole.

_So this is me swallowing my pride  
>Standing in front of you, saying I'm sorry for that night<br>And I go back to December all the time_

_It turns out freedom ain't nothing but missing you_  
><em>Wishing I'd realized what I had when you were mine<em>  
><em>I go back to December, turn around and make it alright<em>  
><em>I go back to December all the time<em>

_These days, I haven't been sleeping_  
><em>Staying up, playing back myself leaving<em>  
><em>When your birthday passed, and I didn't call<em>

_Then I think about summer, all the beautiful times_  
><em>I watched you laughing from the passenger side<em>  
><em>And realized I loved you in the fall<em>

_And then the cold came, the dark days_  
><em>When fear crept into my mind<em>  
><em>You gave me all your love, and all I gave you was goodbye<em>

Yeah, goodbye was right. _Goodbye _and _hey Quinn, let's sneak around and screw over Sam and go around rubbing our perfection in everybody's fucking faces_. _Meanwhile, I'll keep hanging around Berry and get super jealous every time she gives anybody the goddamn time of day so that she never really gets over me. That way when I change my mind for the umpteenth **fucking** time it'll be easy to get her back again_. Puck wanted to puke.

_Maybe this is wishful thinking  
>Probably mindless dreaming<br>But if we loved again, I swear I'd love you right_

_So this is me swallowing my pride_  
><em>Standing in front of you, saying I'm sorry for that night<em>  
><em>And I go back to December<em>

_It turns out freedom ain't nothing but missing you_  
><em>Wishing I'd realized what I had when you were mine<em>  
><em>I go back to December, turn around and make it alright<em>  
><em>I go back to December all the time<em>

The song drifted off, and that was when Puck realized people had actually gathered on the dance floor and did the slow-dance swaying thing during Finnessa's singing. He had to admit the song didn't suck—just the message itself. The muscular boy looked to Berry, and saw in her face a flurry of emotions, none of which looked like the disgust he felt. He listened half-heartedly as Lauren was declared Queen and Finn King, and nodded dumbly when Berry suggested they leave early.


	3. He Loves Me So What?

**A/N**: thanks for caring about this guys! for everyone that reviewed their concern- i promise the story has a happy ending (unlike what will likely happen in the show P), there's one more chapter after this, so just hang in there a little longer.

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><p>They were silent on the drive home, the only sounds the rhythmic banging of his beat up truck. He wondered if she thought he was thinking about Lauren, or if she was thinking about Finn. He found himself actually considering the last couple of weeks. It was Artie that had asked her to help him get his GPA up enough to go to the dance, which Puck had grudgingly agreed to. But that hadn't been enough for Berry: she'd begun pushing him to get his grades up in English, and Bio, and History, insisting that he had all the potential in the world if he just put a little effort in. It was the crazy-ass midget who'd been dropping off brochures and pamphlets about college, the military, even vocational schools, along with financial aid and scholarship information to push her point that all he needed was the will to leave and a little planning and he could easily get the hell out of Lima. Anyways, it hadn't been all work: after a few sessions, he had her laughing at his lewd gestures, while at the same time telling him off about it; had her taking their scheduled breaks to not only scope out new (though he insisted non-Broadway) music, but just hang out. And most recently, her smile when he'd asked her to go to Prom with him- he loved that she never treated him like a second choice, like settling. He remembered exactly what her hair smelled like, her lips tasted like, from the tiny moments in the last two years when he'd gotten that close to her. It pissed him off that he'd probably never get that close again.<p>

As if to emphasize that final point—who was sitting on his hood, parked in her driveway but Finn, looking like a fucking dog eagerly waiting for its owner to come home.

The dopey boy sighed in relief as Puck parked his truck; no doubt expecting him to have tried some skeazy move in the five minutes they'd been away. Puck slid from his seat, loosening his stupid tie as he walked to the passenger side to help Berry get out without ripping her dress or tripping over her heels. He would've driven off right then—he really didn't want to see the nauseating reunion—but the midget insisted he go inside; that she'd be in shortly.

Puck walked into the kitchen and grabbed a soda from the fridge. He sat at the bar and passed the can back and forth between his hands, trying hard not to listen to the soft voices just outside; if tonight had taught him anything, it was that he was better off not listening to other people's conversations. After about five minutes, he finally heard the sound of a car driving off and the front door opening.

He watched Berry shyly enter her own home, quietly sliding into the seat across from him. For a moment they both just stared at his Coke.

"So you and Hudson back on?" he finally asked when he couldn't take the silence anymore.

"He said he loved me, and he wants us to be together again," she replied softly, tracing a pattern in the marble. "That Quinn had just been using him and he'd been an idiot this whole time." She trailed off, still staring intently at the countertop.

"Well no fucking duh."

"Noah, language." Even her admonishment was quiet and half-assed, and the guy just couldn't take it anymore.

"So, are you then?" he asked again, slightly irritated as he anticipated the answer.

"He loves me Noah—"

Puck had finally had enough. "So fucking what Berry?" he shouted. "He treats you like shit. Hell, he treats Quinn like shit too, come down to it. He berates you for cheating on him, but he cheats on Q with you and convinces her to cheat on Sam with _him_. Not to mention he had every intention on fucking you while lying to you about sleeping with Santana."

"We weren't together then—"

"That's not the goddamn point Berry! He was going to let you believe he was still had his fucking v-card, that you were both going to lose it together or something, and even when he realized the truth was in danger of coming out, he still let San tell you in front of everyone instead of just manning up and telling you himself, all in the name of _not hurting your feelings_? It's a fucking coward's way of doing things, and he's been doing it like that since you two started this dumbass dance.

"And now," he continued, really rolling in his speech. "Now, after hearing everything he said to Quinn, everything he said to you, one stupid song and an 'I love you' and you're just going to take him back? Goddamn Berry, _I_ could do that. I could sing you a song about how fucking awesome you are; could tell you I love you and mean it."

He ducked his head down in embarassment at his own admission, putting his righting the soda on the countertop and roughly slipping his jacket back on as he headed to the door.

Rachel ran after him, grabbing his arm. "Noah, wait—"

"I'm done waiting Rachel," he told her, surprising even himself—he wasn't sure when he realized he had started. "I'm not saying choose me or anything, but just—don't choose him. You deserve better than Finn Hudson. I know you think he's the fucking golden boy, and you guys have great voice chemistry or whatever, but have you heard you? You can get that with anyone. You need someone that challenges you; that won't leave you hanging—that's going to be proud of you whether you end up on Broadway or decide to join a convent and take a fucking vow of silence. And that's not going to be Finn. It's _never_ going to be him."

He pulled back his arm, grunting out an excuse to leave and throwing himself into his truck, leaving her staring after him in the driveway.

* * *

><p>Puck spent the rest of the weekend holed up in his room. He didn't see anybody, or check Facebook, or take any phone calls. He didn't want to know about <em>them<em> any sooner than he had to.

He just lay in his bed, listening to the white noise of his room and trying to shut out all thoughts that had to do with anything related to Rachel Berry.

But Monday came, and his ma would be damned if he didn't go to school like he was supposed to. So he trudged through the halls, ignoring the buzz around him as he made his way to his classes.


	4. Whose White Horse

Finn strutted through the halls of McKinley in a great mood Monday morning. He'd been crowned Prom King (not that it really mattered to him, but it was still awesome that people thought he was cool), he had completely ended things with Quinn, and he'd talked to Rachel before Puck could make any sort of skeazy move. Granted, she hadn't said anything yet, but she knew he loved her, and he was certain that they'd be back together again by today.

His mood only improved when Kurt and Mercedes walked up to either side of him, each eager to know the new status of Finnchel. He'd forgotten how much he'd missed that name, and their mentioning it only made him grin wider. He floated through all of his classes on Cloud Nine (not that he understood why that was such a great cloud, but he'd heard Rachel say it once).

The gawky teen walked into the choir room for Glee, taking his old seat in the front row, next to where Rachel would be. He frowned as he noticed that the petite brunette wasn't there yet, which was weird; she had always been the first one there since basically Glee had started. But he was certain she'd be there soon and watched the door, ignoring the pointed avoidance of eye contact from his former best friend and girlfriend on opposite sides of the row behind him.

Just then Mr. Schue walked in, smiling in a way that made Finn think his mentor knew about his reunion with Rachel, or had maybe had just as good of a weekend. The curly-haired teacher walked over to the whiteboard and started scribbling on the board.

"Okay guys—who knows what cathartic means?" he addressed them, rubbing his hands together.

"It's when your cat goes to visit Santa Claus," Brittany answered proudly, causing everyone to pause a moment as they puzzled the blonde's answer.

"Catharsis means to do something to get a big emotion off of your chest," Quinn corrected softly. Finn looked back at her downcast eyes and his own dropped in sympathy, his expression saddened from her pain. He hated seeing her unhappy like that; it made him want to gather her up in his arms and tell her how awesome and beautiful and skinny she was.

"Right," Schue replied, grinning at his group. "I know that with all of the drama happening over the last couple of weeks, we have a lot of tension in the group. So this week's assignment is to pick a song that you think will help you get whatever you're dealing with off your chest, and help us as a team to move on."

"I'm so pleased you suggested this, Mr. Schuester," Rachel spoke up as she strode into the door. "I've been working on something just like that all weekend, regarding the events that transpired during Prom, and would be happy to perform it for the group."

"God, we have to listen to her gloat already?" Quinn half-moaned, half-sneered. "It's not enough that it had to happen in the first place?"

Mr. Schue studiously ignored the comment and urged Rachel to go ahead. As she took out her sheet music, handing it to Brad, she explained, "Since Taylor Swift was used to address the initial matter, I felt it would be appropriate to respond with a piece by the same artist."

Finn was thrilled. He loved to hear Rachel sing, and Taylor Swift was full of happy "we're so right for each other" songs like _You Belong With Me_ and _Love Story_. Which was why he found himself confused by the slow, haunting melody that Brad started playing.

* * *

><p>Puck couldn't tune out Rachel's explanation about her song; he never could really tune her out, no matter how much he wanted to. And based off of Finn's face, he had figured it was going to be a bubbly piece of crap about being happy and together or some bullshit. But when those first slow chords came from the piano, the mowhawked boy found himself perking up and leaning forward as Rachel began her song.<p>

_Say you're sorry, that face of an angel  
>Comes out just when you need it to<em>

_As I paced back and forth all this time  
>Cause I honestly believed in you<em>

Puck couldn't believe his ears. Not that Berry sounded amazing—no surprise there. But unless the song suddenly changed gears and burst into a celebratory parade piece of shit, it sounded like she'd actually listened to him. That maybe she'd realized Finnocence wasn't the Golden Boy everyone made him out to be.

_Holding on,_  
><em>The days drag on<em>  
><em>Stupid girl<em>  
><em>I should have known, I should have known<em>

_That I'm not a princess_  
><em>This ain't a fairytale<em>  
><em>I'm not the one you'll sweep off her feet<em>  
><em>Lead her up the stairwell<em>

_This ain't Hollywood,_  
><em>This is a small town<em>  
><em>I was a dreamer before you went and let me down<em>  
><em>Now its too late for you and your White Horse,<em>  
><em>To come around.<em>

_Baby I was naíve,_  
><em>Got lost in your eyes<em>  
><em>I never really had a chance,<em>  
><em>My mistake, I didn't know,<em>  
><em>To be in love you had to fight to get the uppper hand<em>

_I had so many dreams about you and me._  
><em>Happy endings<em>  
><em>Now I know<em>

Berry may know, and by the stunned shitless looks of the Gleeks around him so did the rest of the group, but Puck smirked (what? he couldn't help it) as he watched that pained expression on Finn's face as he tried to figure out what Rachel was trying to tell him. As the fucking St. Finn tried to understand what it meant to be told what he was doing was a fucking douche thing to do, and, despite what he thought, he _didn't_ deserve someone like the crazy-ass midget singing her heart out in front of him.

_I'm not a princess, this ain't a fairy tale  
>I'm not the one you'll sweep off her feet<br>Lead her up the stairwell_

_This ain't Hollywood,_  
><em>This is a small town<em>  
><em>I was a dreamer before you went and let me down<em>  
><em>Now its too late for you and your White Horse,<em>  
><em>To come around. <em>

_And there you are on your knees_  
><em>Begging for forgiveness, begging for me<em>  
><em>Just like I always wanted<em>

_But I'm so sorry_

_Cause I'm not your princess, this ain't a fairytale  
>I'm gonna find someone someday who might actually treat me well<br>This is a big world, that was a small town  
>There in my rearview mirror disappearing now<em>

Puck grinned as Berry broke into the last chorus. She finally looked away from Finn (though the doofus still seemed lost on the message) and let her gaze float to him for the second line. And in that look he knew she'd finally figured it out: she may not have been Frankenteen's princess, but she sure as hell was his.

_Now it's too late for you and your white horse_

_To catch me now_

Puck felt his gleeful (no pun intended) expression taking over his face as she wrapped up the last notes and watched the rest of the New Directions try to absorb what had just happened. That their precious Finnchel was done, because the diva had finally figured out that there was more to a relationship than just having some guy that people liked on your arm.

He didn't have to press his ear up against the door like the others while they listened to the two of them walked out to have their swan song in the hallway. He'd had enough of listening to Finn anyways.

But when he saw Rachel reenter, smiling and confident as she quietly took the seat next to him (something the others gawked at in equal disbelief as the moments before), he could see the challenge in her eyes: that the time was now. And he worked his butt off to present his Jewish tribute for her (_Heroes_ by The Wallflowers), so that when he asked her out, and she kissed him in response, he knew that fuck Finnchel—endgame was going to be Puckleberry.


End file.
